


A Quickie in the Library

by ZionAngel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut, smutty smutty Rumbelle smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZionAngel/pseuds/ZionAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Quickie (no pun intended… okay maybe a little) #WankWeek Smutty Smutty Rumbelle Smut.</p><p>Belle has been feeling particularly lustful all morning.  Fortunately, Rumple decides to stop by the library at just the right time.  (Total PWP)  Fae Fae said to do the thing.  I guess I had to do the thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quickie in the Library

Belle sits at the circulation desk in the library, trying to concentrate on reconciling the logs in front of her. Frustratingly, she can barely focus, shifting in her seat every few seconds, crossing and uncrossing her legs before crossing them the other way. She’s trying to do her work as the dutiful town librarian, truly she is, but it’s so damn difficult when she has spent the entire morning inexplicably consumed with… well, as a student of language, she’d be a liar to call it anything but _lust_.

Finally, hoping a brief change of scenery might do her some good, she stands and takes her empty glass to the water cooler in the study area. She fills it halfway and downs it in three large gulps, before filling it again and slowly making her way back to the desk.

“Ah, there you are,” the familiar voice greets before she even looks up to see someone there.

“Rumple!” she startles, his sudden appearance making her heart race for so many reasons.

“Would you care to go to lunch?” he asks with a sweet smile, gingerly placing both of his strong hands on top of his cane. “You must be hungry.”

Magic or no, it’s as if he can see into her mind and knows exactly how to torment her. Fortunately, she is equally adept at tormenting him.

A glance around the lobby as she sets down her class proves that they are well and truly alone – for now, at least – and she moves quickly across the room to him. With a smirk, she tugs his tie out from beneath his vest and wraps it once around her hand. As always, it makes a rather handy leash, and she uses it to pull him into her small office and away from prying eyes.

She locks the door behind them, giving him just enough time to ask what she’s doing before she tugs him down into a frantic kiss. He stumbles for a moment, his mind not quite processing what’s going on until she reaches between them and begins rubbing the heel of her hand against him. He quickly catches on and stops arguing, his cane dropping to the floor as he kisses her back with enthusiasm.

He fumbles with the buttons on her shirt, plucking them open one by one until cool air brushes against her warm skin. The front clasp of her bra gives him a bit more trouble, though he always did have a hard time with those. She can hardly fault him for it, given the state he’s in.

When he manages to free her breasts and cups them in his warm hands, she leans into the touch desperately, moaning against his lips. She bites his lip without meaning to as she scrambles to loosen his tie and undo his own buttons, but he hardly seems to mind. He makes handling his buttons, belt and zipper terribly difficult, with the way he thrusts his tongue into her mouth, seeking out every sensitive place. The damned man is _trying_ to drive her mad. But finally, she manages to free him of just enough of his clothing, greedily running her hands over soft, hot flesh.

She only notices that he’s managed to get her panties halfway down when she nearly trips over her own feet as she backs up. She manages to get them off without knocking them both over more through luck than anything else. With that barrier gone, she guides him backwards toward the desk, shoving a few things aside to make room. She is so desperate for his touch, to feel him inside her, that she barely cares that a few books get shoved out of the way in the midst of it all.

She hops up onto the edge of the desk, immediately wrapping her arms and legs around him, kissing him frantically and trying to fuse their very skin together. His careful, precise spinner’s hands find their way between their bodies, rubbing slowly at her clit with far more care than they’ve managed so far. She tamps down a moan as she sucks his lower lip into his mouth. She buries her fingers in his soft hair, alternately rubbing his scalp and tugging at it, desperate for more.

After several minutes of rocking her hips against his hand, she finally loses what little patience she has. She scoots a few inches back on the table, so that he can use it for stability without hurting his bad leg. Their eyes meet for a moment, everything quiet and still, and he gives her that little droopy-eyed, helpless smile that always manages to make her feel more loved than even the most extravagant of words. Then in a flash, he seals his mouth over hers and thrusts into her in one long stroke.

She moans against his lips, barely caring about keeping quiet anymore. He leans her back until she’s lying across the desk. Without breaking the kiss, he shucks off his jacket and bundles it up, tucking it beneath her head as a pillow. She tugs hard on his hair as she wraps her legs high around his waist, silently demanding that he _move_. He takes the message, and within a few thrusts they’ve found a rythym. He somehow manages to sneak his arms between their bodies without her even noticing until his long fingers are circling mercilessly at her clit again. His other hand finds her breast, stroking and kneading as he uses every trick he has to drive her out of her mind.

Soon he moves on to her neck, nibbling and sucking at her pulse point. As the pleasure grows, she fights harder and harder to keep her cries quiet, whimpering and holding her breath and biting her lip so hard she fears she might bleed. As he drives her on to the precipice, her fingers claw at his shirt, clutching at the fabric in desperation. “Rumple!” she breaths, praying it comes out as only a whisper. He kisses her again, sealing his lips over hers just in time to muffle her scream as she comes. She clings to him tightly, desperately, rocking against him as she rides out every last wave of pleasure that pulses through her body.

When she finally manages to open her eyes again, she finds him smirking at her. _Smirking_ at her like he’s won some kind of game, like this whole encounter was his idea. That simply cannot be allowed to stand.

She reaches down with both hands and grabs his ass, pulling him into her _hard_ as she arches up into him. She takes full advantage of his strangled cry to kiss him, sucking on the tip of his tongue. After her own climax she can still barely breathe, but it’s worth it for the way he frantically pounds into her until he comes as well, nearly crushing her from holding on so tight.

When it’s over, he all but collapses back into the desk chair. She shivers as he pulls out of her so suddenly. He’s panting even harder than she is, and as she sits up on her elbows, she can see sweat beading along his hairline. Belle, on the other hand, finds that she feels quite refreshed and sated. Her orgasm and his touch have finally satisfied the desire that has been coursing through her body all morning.

She sits up all the way, clasping her bra and buttoning her shirt. She stands to slip her panties back on and tucks in her shirt, all while Rumple remains in the chair, still catching his breath. She finger-combs her hair back into place with the help of the mirror on the back of the door, and within moments, she looks entirely presentable.

She turns to Rumple and bites back a smile at his disheveled state. He is an utter mess, his shirt untucked and half-twisted off his shoulders, loose tie hanging around his neck, and half naked. Belle smiles and kisses him sweetly. “I love you,” she murmurs as she pulls away.

She stands and moves toward the door, turning the lock with a soft click. Then, she pauses and turns back to him. “And Rumple? Do try to make yourself presentable before you leave.”

He gives her a look just as she slips out the door. She knows the look well. It’s the look that says she’s a terrible monster of a vixen, and he loves every last minute of it.


End file.
